RESCUE AT CARDWELL RANCH
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SAVING HER ONCE WAS RISKY. RESCUING HER AGAIN MAY BE FATAL.
When Hayes Cardwell arrived in Big Sky, Montana, for his brother’s wedding, the Texas P.I. didn’t expect to play hero. But ever since he saved her from a brutal abductor, he can’t get McKenzie Sheldon out of his mind and heart. As passion blindsides him, Hayes vows to protect the beautiful business owner from once again becoming the target of a killer intent on finishing the job.
McKenzie was drawn to Hayes from the moment she awoke and saw the tall, dark cowboy who’d rushed to her rescue like some Western fantasy. With his lean, sexy looks and fierce protective instincts, the gun-shy bachelor is already lassoing her heart. But can he protect her from a danger that’s much closer than they think…a killer hiding in plain sight who’s about to spring a final trap?
“I can’t get you out of my mind—”
“I know what you’re up to.”
“I doubt that.” Hayes leaned toward her, his hand looping around the back of McKenzie’s neck as he gently drew her to him. “Because if you could see what I was up to, then you’d know I was about to kiss you.”
He brushed his lips over hers, then pulled back to gaze into her eyes. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“You don’t have to treat me as if I’m made out of glass and might break,” she said. “I’m a lot stronger than I look.”
“Is that right?” He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him right there in the street between their vehicles. Her full lips parted in surprise. Her sweet, warm breath comingled with his own. She let out a soft moan as he tasted her. Drawing her even closer, he deepened the kiss, demanding more.
RESCUE AT
CARDWELL
RANCH
New York Times Bestselling Author
B.J. Daniels
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels wrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories. That first book, Odd Man Out, received a four-and-a-half-star review from RT Book Reviews and went on to be nominated for Best Intrigue that year. Since then, she has won numerous awards, including a career achievement award for romantic suspense and many nominations and awards for best book.
Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and two springer spaniels, Spot and Jem. When she isn’t writing, she snowboards, camps, boats and plays tennis. Daniels is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, International Thriller Writers, Kiss of Death and Romance Writers of America.
To contact her, write to B.J. Daniels, P.O. Box 1173, Malta, MT 59538, or email her at bjdaniels@mtintouch.net. Check out her website, www.bjdaniels.com.
Books by B.J. Daniels
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
897—CRIME SCENE AT CARDWELL RANCH
996—SECRET OF DEADMAN’S COULEE*
1002—THE NEW DEPUTY IN TOWN*
1024—THE MYSTERY MAN OF WHITEHORSE*
1030—CLASSIFIED CHRISTMAS*
1053—MATCHMAKING WITH A MISSION*
1059—SECOND CHANCE COWBOY*
1083—MONTANA ROYALTY*
1125—SHOTGUN BRIDE§
1131—HUNTING DOWN THE HORSEMAN§
1137—BIG SKY DYNASTY§
1155—SMOKIN’ SIX-SHOOTER§
1161—ONE HOT FORTY-FIVE§
1198—GUN-SHY BRIDE**
1204—HITCHED!**
1210—TWELVE-GAUGE GUARDIAN**
1234—BOOTS AND BULLETS^
1240—HIGH-CALIBER CHRISTMAS^
1246—WINCHESTER CHRISTMAS WEDDING^
1276—BRANDED‡
1282—LASSOED‡
1288—RUSTLED‡
1294—STAMPEDED‡
1335—CORRALLED‡
1353—WRANGLED‡
1377—JUSTICE AT CARDWELL RANCH
1413—CARDWELL RANCH TRESPASSER
1455—CHRISTMAS AT CARDWELL RANCH
1497—RESCUE AT CARDWELL RANCH†
*Whitehorse, Montana
§Whitehorse, Montana:
The Corbetts
**Whitehorse, Montana:
Winchester Ranch
^Whitehorse, Montana:
Winchester Ranch Reloaded
‡Whitehorse, Montana:
Chisholm Cattle Company
†Cardwell Cousins
Other titles by this author
available in ebook format.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Hayes Cardwell—The private detective showed up in Montana just in time to save a woman’s life.
McKenzie Sheldon—Her realty business meant everything to her until the night she almost died.
Gus Thompson—The hotshot real estate agent thought he was irresistible to women, but the police suspect he was a stalker.
Eric Winters—How could he get arrested for the attempted abduction of the Realtor? All he did was go to a few open houses.
Bob Garwood—Was he just an innocent homebuyer? Or was he the man still stalking the Realtor?
Jason and Emily Mathews—They had their hearts set on having the best house and the best Realtor.
Dana Cardwell Savage—She loved having her cousin Hayes on Cardwell Ranch, even for a short visit.
Tag Cardwell—He was determined to move ahead on a Texas Boys Barbecue place in Big Sky, Montana. All he needed was his four brothers on board.
This one is for David Rummel, who makes me laugh with his stories and his wonderful joy for life. You definitely make our lives more fun.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Excerpt
Chapter One
From the darkness, he heard the sound of high heels tapping quickly along the pavement, heading in his direction, and smiled. This could be the one.
If not, he would have to give it up for the night, something he couldn’t bear doing. For days his need had been growing. He’d come here tonight because he couldn’t put it off any longer—no matter how dangerous it was to hunt this close to home.
Since it had gotten dark, he’d been looking. He hated to think of the women he’d let get away, women in their tight skirts and low-cut blouses, women who’d just been asking for it.
But waiting for the right woman, he’d learned, was the smart thing to do. It took patience. Tonight, though, he found himself running short of it. He’d picked his favorite spot, the favorite spot of men like himself: a grocery-store parking lot at night. Once he’d parked next to her car—he knew it was a woman’s car because she’d left her sunglasses on the dash and there was one of those cute air fresheners hanging from the mirror—he’d broken the bright light she’d parked under.
Now the area was cast in dark shadow—just the way he loved it. He doubted she would notice the lack of light—or him with his head down, pretending to be packing his groce
ries into the trunk of his large, expensive vehicle. Women were less afraid of a man who appeared to have money, he’d discovered.
At the sound of her approaching footfalls, he found it hard not to sneak a peek at her. Patience. This would be the one, he told himself. He already felt as if he knew her and could easily guess her story. She would have worked late, which was why she was still dressed as she had been this morning, in high heels. She wasn’t pushing a cart so she wasn’t shopping for her large family.
Instead, he guessed she was single and lived alone, probably in a nice condo since she drove a newer, pricier car—the kind independent, successful single women drove. By the sound of her footfalls, she carried only one small bag of groceries. He could already imagine his hands around her throat.
The footfalls grew closer.
He’d learned a long time ago not to act on impulse. Snatch the first one he saw and bad things happened. He had a scar to prove it. That run-in had almost cost him dearly. Not that she’d gotten away. He’d made sure of that. But she’d wounded him in more ways than one. It was why he’d come up with a set of rigorous guidelines he now followed to the letter. It was the reason, he told himself, that he’d never been caught.
He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining the look in her eyes when she realized she was about to die. This woman had to be the right one because his need had grown to the point of urgency. He went over his guidelines, the memory of his only mistake still haunting him.
He wouldn’t let himself be swayed by an alluring whiff of perfume. Nor would he risk a woman carrying anything that could be used as a weapon at a distance like an umbrella.
Then there was her hair and attire. It would surprise most women to know that what made her his target was her hairstyle. There was a reason women with short hair were not common prey of men like him. Give him a woman with a ponytail—a recent trend that filled him with joy—or a braid or even a bun—anything he could bury his fingers in and hold on for dear life.
Clothing was equally as important. She had to be wearing an outfit that would come off easily and quickly because he often didn’t have a lot of time. Of course, he always carried a pair of sharp scissors, but a woman in a blouse and a skirt made his life so much easier, even with a blade handy.
Now as the sound of the high heels grew closer, he readied himself with growing anticipation. He was betting this one was wearing a nice short skirt and a button-up blouse. Tonight, he could even handle a matching jacket with the skirt. No blue jeans, though. They were such a pain to get off.
Her cell phone rang. She stopped walking. He groaned since if she’d been just a little closer, she would have already been in his trunk, her mouth duct taped as well as her wrists and ankles.
He cursed her cell phone even though it often made things easier for him. Women who were distracted—either digging in their purses for their keys or talking on their cell phones or unloading their groceries—were oblivious to the fact that he was already breathing down their necks.
He silently urged her phone call to end. Just a few more steps and he would grab her by the hair, overpower her and have her in the trunk of his car before she even knew what was happening. Once he got her to the place he had picked out down by the river...well, that was when the real fun would begin.
His next victim was still on the phone. She sounded upset, so upset that she’d stopped walking to take the call. She would be thinking about the call—not him right next to her car.
The call ended. She began to walk again, right toward him. He doubted she’d even noticed him bent over his car trunk, pretending to be taking care of his groceries.
He heard her vehicle beep as she unlocked it. Any moment she would walk within a few feet of him on his right. He would have only an instant to make his decision. An instant to see what she had in her hands, what she was wearing, how long her hair was. Even with his meticulous planning, there was always the chance that this could be the one woman who would surprise him. The one who would fight back. The one who would get away and ruin his perfect record.
His heart began to pound with excitement. He loved this part. None had ever gotten away—even the one who’d scarred him. He was too smart for them. They were like sheep coming down a chute to slaughter, he thought, as he looked up and saw her start past him.
Chapter Two
McKenzie Sheldon came out of the grocery store thinking about work. Not work, exactly, but one of the men at her office.
She was going to have to do something about Gus Thompson. The warnings she’d given him had fallen on deaf ears. The man had reached the point where he was daring her to fire him.
Shifting the single bag of groceries to her other arm, she began to dig for her keys when her cell phone rang. She stopped and pulled out her phone, saw it was her receptionist and said, “What’s up, Cynthia?”
“You told me to call you if I was having any more problems.”
McKenzie let out an angry breath. “Let me guess. Gus. What has he done now?” she asked with a disgusted sigh.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sheldon, but he won’t leave me alone. If I work late, he works late. He always insists on walking me to my car. I’ve told him that I’m not interested, but it seems to make him even more determined. I make excuses to avoid him, but—”
“I know. Trust me. It isn’t anything you’re doing.”
“He scares me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Tonight I looked out and he was waiting by my car. I’m afraid to try to go home.”
She started to tell Cynthia that she didn’t think Gus was dangerous, but what did she know? “Is he still out there?”
“I don’t know.” Her receptionist sounded close to tears.
“Call the police. Or if you want to wait, I can swing by—”
“I don’t want you to have to do that. I’ll call the police. I wanted to talk to you first. I didn’t want to make any trouble.”
“Don’t worry about that. Gus is the one making the trouble. I promise you I’ll take care of this tomorrow.” She heard her receptionist make a scared sound. “Don’t worry. I won’t mention your name.” She thought of the night she’d looked out her window at her condo. Gus had been sitting in his car across the street. He’d seen her and sped off, but she’d wondered how many other nights he’d been out there watching her house. “I should have fired him a long time ago.”
“But he’s your best salesman.”
McKenzie let out a humorless laugh. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“Still, I wouldn’t want to be blamed for him losing his job.”
“You won’t. Trust me. I have my own issues with him.” She snapped the phone shut, angry with herself for letting things go on this long.
She had talked to Gus after that incident outside her house. He’d shrugged it off, made an excuse and she hadn’t seen him again near her place. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been more careful the next time. There was just no reining Gus in, she thought as she found her keys and started toward her car.
She wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow. Gus wouldn’t take being fired well. There would be a scene. She really hated scenes. But this was her responsibility as the owner of the agency. Maybe she should call him tonight and hire security until she could get Gus Thompson’s desk cleaned out and the locks changed on the doors at the agency.
With a sigh, she hit the door lock on her key fob. The door on her SUV beeped. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely noticed the man parked next to her, loading his groceries. His back to her, he bent over the bags of groceries he’d put in his trunk as she walked past him.
She was thinking about Gus Thompson when the man grabbed her ponytail and jerked her off her feet. Shocked, she didn’t make a sound. She didn’t even drop her groceries as his arm clamped around her throat. Her only thought was: this isn’t happening.
<
br /> * * *
HAYES CARDWELL FELT his stomach growl as he walked down the grocery-store aisle. The place was empty at this hour of the night with just one clerk at the front, who’d barely noticed him when he walked in. The grocery was out of the way and it was late enough that most people had done their shopping, cooking and eating by now.
His plane had been delayed in Denver, putting him down in the Gallatin Valley much later than he’d hoped—and without any food for hours. He still had the drive to Big Sky tonight, one he wasn’t looking forward to since he didn’t know the highway.
Being from Texas, he wasn’t used to mountains—let alone mountain roads. He was debating calling his brother Tag and telling him he would just get a motel tonight down here in the valley and drive up tomorrow in the daylight.
He snagged a bottle of wine to take to his cousin Dana Savage tomorrow and debated what he could grab to eat. The thought of going to a restaurant at this hour—and eating alone—had no appeal.
In the back of the store, he found a deli with premade items, picked himself up a sandwich and headed for the checkout. His Western boot soles echoed through the empty store. He couldn’t imagine a grocery being this empty any hour of the day where he lived in Houston.
The checker was an elderly woman who looked as tired as he felt. He gave her a smile and two twenties. Her return smile was weak as she handed him his change.
“Have a nice night,” she said in a monotone.
“Is there a motel close around here?”
She pointed down the highway to the south. “There’s several.” She named off some familiar chains.
He smiled, thanked her and started for the door.
* * *
MCKENZIE HAD TAKEN a self-defense class years ago. Living in Montana, she’d thought she would never need the training. A friend had talked her into it. The highlight of the course was that they’d always gone out afterward for hot-fudge sundaes.
That’s all she remembered in the split second the man grabbed her.